


coasting

by sinisterkids (400lux)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 22:44:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3954646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/400lux/pseuds/sinisterkids
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>the voice that whispers between your ears before you fall asleep, that's the one you pay attention to.</i> jongdae hosts an indie radio channel.  minseok works 5 days a week and tunes in on his morning drive. (<a href="http://sinisterkids.livejournal.com/15816.html">lj mirror</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	coasting

**Author's Note:**

> most of the songs mentioned in this fic is also mirrored in _[this mix](http://8tracks.com/littlefoxes/coasting)_.

“morning folks! you’re listening in on daybreak breakfast radio with chen. i’ve got some chill sounds for you on this dreary morning. so, for those of you on your way to work, try not to fall asleep,” chen says with a laugh, “no, really. i don’t want to be sued, i’m too young and piss-poor! anyway, here’s _west coast_ by the neighbourhood.”

minseok spins his steering wheel, taking a right turn as the rising sun chases him. clouds hang heavy in the sky but not enough to expect a storm. good. he never liked the rain anyway. ironic, when he lives in london of all places. the spiderweb of side-streets are empty at this time of day—minseok’s smart enough not to take the main roads, the rush hour a headache he doesn’t need just before he’s on his feet under stark lights for eight hours a day.

this is his time to relax, vibing to the sweet tunes chen hand-picks from his independent archive.

“what a way to kickstart our morning!” chen’s voice says over the finishing instrumental of the last song. “now for a favourite of mine, glass animals’ _gooey_.”

the ironic thing about chen’s channel, and the reason minseok’s hooked, is that he sounds like the complete opposite of the songs he plays. a high whine, a crass laugh—a voice that ebbs and flows with a hint of a mischievous smile, and the reason why so many people text in with requests of “chen, please sing _such_ and _such_ song for us.”

chen just brushes them off with a laugh, plays a spot of daughter and leaves minseok with the crude taste of disappointment on his tongue.

he pulls into the carpark with the thrum of the bass in the celani remix of _moondust_ blasting through the speakers. with a few minutes to spare before his shift officially starts, minseok leans back against the leather headrest, inhaling the starch car freshener that smells more ‘grandma’s toilet’ than ‘cool mountain air’.

he taps a finger on the dashboard in a steady rhythm, counting down the seconds before he turns the key—“now kids, don’t forget to carpe diem! that’s french for something fancy and totally motivational, i’ve been informed. google it.”—and exits the car.

smoothing down the lapel of his suit, and grabbing his briefcase out of the backseat, minseok walks through the carpark. the glare of the sun—the rays breaking through the clouds—gets him straight in the eye.

 

-

 

the patient sputters, as minseok’s dental assistant sehun moves the mini hose around her stretched-open mouth, the thin vacuum tube following it. minseok apologises, pulling on his latex glove with a snap against his wrist. he grabs the dental mirror from his work table, inspecting the teenage girl’s mouth, brows furrowed in concentration. “sehun, possible decay in LL7 and LL8.”

“gotcha, sir,” sehun says, noting it down. “slow onset?”

“yeah,” minseok replies, examining her gums. “everything else looks fine. now lauren, your cleaning is good, so keep it up. do you still floss the way i showed you?”

“uh huh,” she says, licking her chapped lips when minseok removes the mirror.

minseok smiles down at her, “we’ll have a talk to your mum about the cavity but it doesn’t look too serious right now. now, we’ll clean away some of that plaque and you’ll be free to go.”

she nods in understanding, and minseok and sehun go about their routine.

after minseok has a talk to her mother, he throws his gloves out and wipes his forehead of any residual sweatdrops. “who’s next?” he asks sehun, who is straightening the instruments in accordance with minseok’s perfectionist standards.

“no one, boss,” sehun states, glancing up to give minseok that look. the one that says _get off your ass and stop being a human toothbrush all day long_. minseok’s grown used to it. “no one, because you’re going to go get lunch.”

“that’s hyung to you, kid,” minseok says, with no punch behind it. his lips quirk up to one side. “sure you can handle things on your own?”

“please,” sehun exhales, not exactly a snort, “first, we’re not in korea. second, soojung _and_ chanyeol are in today. i’m a big boy now,” he finishes with a greasy wink.

minseok laughs, shaking his head. his phone begins to ring in his back pocket, and he plucks it out, checking caller i.d before he answers, “hey, lu han.”

“are you free? come down to the cafe and get lunch with me,” minseok’s best friend breaks off into a whine.

minseok hums, “i don’t know…”

“minseok,” lu han says.

“lu han,” minseok replies, smiling cheekily, although lu han can’t see. when lu han groans, minseok gives in, “i’m kidding, i was coming down anyway. see you.”

their favourite cafe’s only a short five-minute walk from the clinic. minseok adjusts his tie, the midday sun beating down on him. when he enters, he spots lu han easily enough. he pulls his wallet out of his back pocket, ordering a small lunch and a coffee before slipping into the seat opposite lu han.

“how’s work?” minseok starts.

lu han immediately laughs, a familiar sound minseok hasn’t heard in a while. he’s been too drowned in work to see his best friend, now they’re adults and not reckless youth anymore. people can’t really laugh when minseok’s got instruments poking around in their mouths. “let’s talk about something more interesting,” lu han says, grinning wickedly, “like _your_ love life.”

minseok sighs, sipping the coffee the server’s placed in front of him, “or lack thereof.”

“honestly minseok.” lu han purses his lips, “you can’t date the dental clinic. i bet it doesn’t even put out.”

minseok shakes his head, smiling softly, cynically, “i’m _happy_.” he wouldn’t go that far, though. he’s content, at most.

lu han gives him an unsure look but doesn’t push it, “if you say so. you’re still getting drinks with me this friday, though.”

“i am?”

“yeah,” states lu han, a sort of firmness behind his words which minseok knows is a sign of lu ‘the saviour’ han’s resoluteness and care, “it’s time to stop being a carpet, ok?”

minseok raises an eyebrow.

“because you get stepped all over!” lu han says lightly, “badum tss.” he holds his palms out, silly grin on his face.

“asshole,” minseok laughs, hitting lu han’s shin under the table. it’s true, and lu han means well, but it doesn’t make the sting any less cutting.

 

-

 

the undulating beat of the cash registers and the low tones of speech are the only sounds to be heard in the 24/7 pharmacy. minseok strolls through the aisles, peering at the back of a box of a new brand of toothpaste on the market. the fluorescent lighting flickers, bathing the quiet shop in an off-white shade akin to a hospital. throwing the toothpaste into the basket hanging off the crook of his elbow, he grabs the matching toothbrush for good measure.

the pharmacy is a vacuum of white noise; even with the cashier’s soft talking as she scans his items, the silence is deafening. minseok taps his fingers on the edge of the counter, in beats of one, two, three. he glances around the store, eyes catching on a figure at the counter in front of him, at the same time his ears register the laugh that rings through the store.

he closes his eyes, the white noise dispersing for a moment in a crazy kaleidoscope of colours. when he opens them, the cashier is softly calling out _sir_ , and the figure is gone, like a ghost; _everything seemed yellowly blurred, illusive, lost_. minseok spins, twists and turns in search but there’s only desolation.

 

-

 

“that was the latest one out of arcade fire’s new album, _reflektor_ ,” chen says, “they’re playing a sold-out show at earls court this saturday and i’m thanking my lucky stars to be attending.”

he laughs in disbelief before continuing, “before that was _the_ jam of the century, massive attack’s _teardrop_. i’ve got people texting in saying it’s the theme song of house, but guys! that is totally not why we should remember such a hit,” he scoffs, "anyway, here's the new one from BANKS, _begging for thread_."

it’s a long morning; minseok usually aims for chipper and optimistic, but with barely two hours of sleep clocked in last night, he’s dead on his feet. by the time lunch comes around, he’s rushing for that midday coffee to keep him going. he’s slumped at a table near the counter when he hears it, coming from outside the cafe. that voice, again, this time less of a polite laugh but more comfortable, genuine. minseok sits up immediately, craning his neck around to find the source of the familiar voice. he’s heard it somewhere other than the pharmacy; he just cannot pinpoint it.

“minseok,” the barista calls out, piercing through his deep reverie. minseok shakes his head, and stands up to take his coffee.

the voice disappears as quickly as it had come.

 

-

 

minseok is long past the days of jerking off in a relaxing hot shower but today’s just one of those days. it’s been a while, he has to admit, since he’s had a good orgasm. although this—hand working over his cock, thumbing the slit as he leans back against the cool tiles of the shower—isn’t what he would call _good_ , and more, _necessity_.

he reaches his high with his eyes squeezed shut, barely making a sound as his breath hitches. he cleans himself up, lifting his face up into the stream of water.

taking a deep breath, minseok eyes the condensation on the glass wall, reaching up to draw a #1 at the top with his index finger. next to it, he writes _make dinner_. and then, #2 _wash the dishes_ and the list of chores and reminders go on, until he reaches the bottom of the shower and stands up in the spray beating off the wiry muscles of his back.

the first five points on the list have completely disappeared. minseok turns off the water and gets out of the shower, dripping across the dark tiles of his bathroom to get his towel.

 

-

 

“i’m so sorry but this is going to hurt,” minseok says, tone calm and soothing. he patiently watches as the nurse injects the patient’s gums with anesthesia, getting him ready for a tooth removal. the kid’s father sits beside him, allowing his hand to be squeezed tight in the pain of the needle.

after the hard bit’s over, the procedure finishes up fairly smoothly. the boy thanks minseok, smiling as wide as he can with a wad of tissues in between his teeth. minseok grins back, handing him a lollipop for his troubles. he’s not a cruel dentist; everyone deserves something sweet after going through pain, right?

the world’s not really like that though, minseok thinks, not really. you fix people’s teeth and years later they come running back with the same problems. it’s easy to become dependent on someone, instead of taking care of yourself.

“hyung,” sehun calls out, “next patient.”

“right, send them in.”

the stranger enters, all mussed-up black hair and rose-pink lips and cheekbones. he smiles at minseok, taking a seat where sehun guides him to. minseok blinks, before checking his record, “jongdae kim, am i right?”

“yeah,” the patient says, face illuminated by the harsh light directed over him.

“and this is your first time here.” minseok doesn’t word it like a question. he’s got jongdae’s record right in front of him.

“uh huh,” jongdae chirps, “i’ve been slack with my teeth lately. will you take care of me, dentist?” just as minseok’s registering the fact that he’s heard that voice before, he and sehun share a look at jongdae’s words. if minseok’s not mistaken, his tone is kind of flirtatious.

“i will,” minseok breathes, pulling on his gloves. he hands jongdae a pair of sunglasses, just as jongdae laughs and—oh. _oh_. that voice, he hears it every morning on his way to work. it cuts through his weariness with its piercing tone, keeps his day from being completely drab. “you—” minseok starts, staring down at jongdae in what can’t be a very flattering angle, “you’re not a radio host, are you?”

“that i am.” jongdae grins up at minseok, “daybreak radio, in the mornings.”

“oh my god, he’s that chen-guy you like a lot—” sehun begins, before minseok shoots him a pointed glare and he cuts himself off.

“yeah, i’m that chen-guy,” jongdae repeats. “it’s nice to meet a fan of mine. i would shake your hand, give you an autograph or something but i’m kinda tied up.” he glances down at his arms leisurely thrown across his stomach.

minseok chokes a little, “there’s no need for that, jongdae. uh, it’s nice to meet you too.” he grabs his dental mirror, “now, say _ah_.”

afterwards, jongdae tries to make conversation with minseok but he’s still working, with more patients to come, as much as he’d like to chat. which is a lot, because he’s slightly enamoured with the face to match the snapshot of jongdae’s personality he’s gathered after listening to him on radio for all these months. he’d like to learn more. before sehun has to practically drag a chatty jongdae out of the room, jongdae turns back on his way out and says, lips quirked, “i think i’d better lay off the apples everyday now.”

minseok gapes, turning to a very unamused sehun in confusion.

“you know,” sehun deadpans, “an apple a day keeps the doctor away.”

“oh?” minseok’s lips curve into a perfect ‘o’.

“he was hitting on you, hyung!”

well. it’s been a while, you can’t blame minseok for being slow. he’s not naturally punny either, unfortunately.

 

-

 

the pub’s not the usual high-end, classy-trashy place lu han often goes for, but who knows, maybe he’s changed a little since he started dating yixing. when minseok finds his booth, lined with dark-brown chapped leather and dodgy floral patchwork, lu han informs him that yixing’s playing a set here tonight and ah, no wonder. he may see less of lu han now but he’s happy if lu han’s happy and he knows yixing makes him happy. they’re cute.

minseok orders himself a large beer as the MC announces yixing’s band, compass soon, and they take the stage. his heart leaps to his throat and he chokes on his first sip when he recognises jongdae kim taking centre-stage.

“that’s—” minseok says, glancing at lu han, who is barely paying any attention to his confounded best friend, brightly smiling at his boyfriend on stage. “jongdae.”

lu han wrenches his eyes away from the stage, “i’ve introduced you two?”

“nah,” minseok says, watching as jongdae introduces their set, “he was a patient of mine the other day.” he doesn’t catch the contemplative look on lu han’s face, too busy being in complete of awe of jongdae’s breathtaking singing voice as they play a cover of hozier’s _take me to church_.

“ _there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin; in the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene_ ,” jongdae sings, eyelids hooded as he scans the crowd. minseok’s heart hammers in his chest like a teenage girl at a justin bieber concert when his gaze brushes over him, “ _only then i am human, only then i am clean_.”

they finish off with a cover of one direction’s debut hit, _what makes you beautiful_ , before disappearing backstage to the tipsy cheers of the audience, minseok and lu han included. they whisper giddily to each other for a few minutes until yixing sneakily slips through the crowd to reach their booth and steals all of lu han’s attention. fortunately, jongdae closely follows him, hoodie pulled over his eyes, black frames perched on his nose.

“you were amazing!” minseok exclaims when he spots jongdae. he knows his eyes are probably glassy and cheeks pink but he doesn’t mind. right now, he just wants to shower jongdae in praise.

“thanks,” jongdae replies easily, grinning as he takes a seat next to minseok, “so, small world, huh?” he gestures to lu han and yixing, arms wrapped around each other as they whisper to each other.

minseok nods, “we could’ve met way sooner.”

“that’s life,” jongdae says with a shrug, “endless opportunities.”

their conversation halts for a few stilted moments when jongdae goes to grab himself and yixing drinks from the bar, but picks up easily enough when he returns. minseok hasn’t felt this comfortable around someone in a while. he thinks that having listened to chen on the radio for so long helps him open up easier.

“so, minseok told me about how you two met,” lu han states, chin hooked onto yixing’s shoulder.

jongdae laughs, throwing an arm across minseok’s shoulder and pulling him in close. minseok’s drunk enough that he doesn’t resist, “yeah, i’m usually picky about who i let in my mouth, but minseok’s cute enough.” and then, jongdae dares to pinch minseok’s cheek.

yixing giggles, perking up at the sight of minseok blushing, as lu han just cackles.

later, minseok finds himself outside the pub, kicking up stones on the pavement as he breathes in the fresh night air. he leans back against the brick wall and jongdae follows him, one hand shoved deep into his pocket and the other holding a lit cigarette to his pursed lips as he takes a puff.

“that’s not good for you, you know,” minseok says, casually, or as best as he can, the inner-dentist in him threatening to break loose.

“i know,” jongdae replies simply, leaning his head back as he stares up at the sky. you can’t see the stars from london. they were bright back home in the small town minseok’s from up north. “i don’t do it often, my voice is a precious commodity.”

“i’d believe that,” minseok says, closing his eyes and watching as constellations dance along his eyelids. he should be getting home. he tells jongdae just as much.

jongdae leans over, bottom lip catching on the curve of minseok’s ear, “come home with me.” he says it like a joke that could turn serious if minseok really wanted. minseok’s sobering up enough to not make rash decisions like that though.

minseok laughs shallowly, entangling himself from jongdae’s grasp, “maybe another time. i’ll pay for your cab fare?”

jongdae stares at minseok for a few moments, eyes dark and questioning. _let’s live suddenly without thinking, let’s live like the light that kills._ he nods, clasping minseok’s hand in his to bid their farewells to yixing and lu han, the latter of which waggles his eyebrows deliberately. minseok responds with an icy glare, allowing jongdae to drag him back outside and hail a taxi. they trip over limbs trying to get into the backseat coherently; minseok’s face ends up pressed against jongdae’s neck and his arms are splayed across jongdae’s stomach. jongdae is all sharp bones and lean muscle but in a sort-of comfortable, nostalgic way. “you alright there?” jongdae asks, patting minseok’s head.

minseok hums in reply, closing his eyes as the driver asks them for an address. jongdae rattles off his own; it sounds vaguely familiar, until it hits minseok, “hey, you live a couple streets down from me.”

the driver turns up the radio, a song by bombay bicycle club softly playing through the speakers, as jongdae glances down at minseok in surprise, “really? god, i _love_ this song. great choice driver.” he throws the driver a thumbs up in the rearview mirror.

“so, you moonlight as a singer?” minseok says, watching jongdae’s jawline carefully. it really is a nice jawline, practically cut from glass. “i’m not surprised.”

jongdae’s eyes twinkle. “and i daylight as a radio host and a spinster with too many cats. fun, right?”

“it does sound fun.” minseok sticks out his bottom lip playfully.

“more fun than cleaning people’s grimy teeth, i’ll bet.”

minseok slaps jongdae’s stomach, laughing. it sounds gross to other people but he loves his job more than anything. it’s basically an artform; transforming teeth into the perfect, aesthetically-pleasing pearly-whites they’re meant to be. and he’s always guaranteed to receive a smile at the end, no matter what.

 

-

 

after minseok had walked jongdae to the front of his apartment block that night, they don’t run into each other for a couple of weeks. even then, it’s not exactly in person. minseok still listens to jongdae on the radio everyday, taking comfort in his melodic voice and choice of sweet sounds.

“the last tune you just heard is from a new band out of scotland, CHVRCHES. definitely one to watch,” jongdae says, before introducing the next song. he recounts some anecdotes from his week later; how he had slipped in the shower and his life flashed before his eyes, how he’d found _the_ greatest croissants in a tiny hole-in-the-wall cafe off brick lane, and how he’d met an actual living, breathing fan of his. that makes minseok smile to himself as he pulls into the carpark.

minseok wonders why jongdae doesn’t play his own band’s songs on his channel; they’re stellar jams and he wouldn’t mind hearing the studio recordings. the channel does pretty well for itself too, if all the texts jongdae receives are anything to go by. it would be great coverage. he gets a chance to ask the man himself late in the evening as he relaxes in front of the television with a bowl of comfort food, when he receives a call from unknown number.

minseok isn’t usually one to take calls from mysterious strangers but he absentmindedly swipes answer, mind occupied by the thrilling plot of _clueless_ , a true cult classic. his spoon hangs out of his mouth as he mumbles into the phone, “hello?” minseok’s sight doesn’t leave the television where cher questions all her life choices after being demoted from queen bee.

“minseok?” that voice, he can’t mistake it anywhere. it’s jongdae.

“jongdae?” minseok echoes. “how’d you get my number?”

“uh, you put it in my phone that night,” jongdae laughs sheepishly. “how are you?”

minseok hesitates, before making some small talk which launches into a tirade about everything from dentures to arctic monkeys and mgmt to the horrors of sugar. jongdae, to his credit, is a great listener and only pitches in with empathetic sounds. only when minseok insults matt healy’s greasy mane does jongdae finally say something, “imma have to stop you right there, he’s totally #mancrush to be honest.”

“i thought i was,” minseok whines before slapping a palm over his mouth in horror.

jongdae laughs; minseok’s becoming addicted to the sound, “i don’t know… i don’t think i can like someone who thinks tim tams are the worst thing to come out of australia since pauline hanson. you live a sad, sad life minseok kim.”

the night goes by like the blink of an eye talking to jongdae. minseok thinks he might have frizzled his ear with radiation for how long he was talking to the other. he’s never felt more comfortable around someone in so long, he thinks for the millionth time.

minseok does something he hasn’t in a while: he traipses to the closet in the hallway, reaching up on his tiptoes to lift up the record player he was given as a gift upon graduating high school, on the top shelf, taking it back to the kitchen countertop. he blows off the layer of dust, the particles catching in the moonlight streaming in from windows, and plugs it in. there’s already a record inside it, a frank sinatra album.

hitting the switch, the dulcet sounds of _fly me to the moon_ escape the turntable. minseok holds his arms out in front of himself, in a semicircle, sliding his socked feet across the tiles as he waltzes alone to the song. _i wonder whether the stars are set alight in heaven so that one day each one of us may find his own again._ minseok spins and skips and leaps, bathed in the bright light of the night sky. the soft down of baby hairs on his arms glow with radiance, just like the smile tugging on the corners of his lips.

minseok twirls to the bathroom, stopping in front of the mirror as he grabs his toothbrush, humming along to the next song streaming in from the kitchen. he taps his fingers against the counter, in beats of one, two, three, watching his reflection as the bristles work across his teeth. he spits and rinses and repeats, three times. he flosses and gargles mouthwash. done.

 

-

 

the rain is relentless this afternoon and lucky for minseok, he thought it was a bright idea to catch the subway in the morning instead of taking his car for a change. somehow not listening to chen’s radio channel for the first time in months had been oddly foreboding and thus minseok finds himself, without an umbrella—in london, for christ's sake—walking the short, and tortuous, distance from the station to his apartment.

minseok is passing by jongdae’s apartment block, if he remembers correctly, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his suit pants, when he hears a troubled mewl coming from the general direction of the steps outside. the sound is loud and high enough to catch minseok’s attention through the pitter-patter of the rain on his head, and he pauses, glancing back.

he hears the sound again, this time a pathetic whimper, feline-sounding. minseok turns back and crouches down, searching for the source of the noise until he finally spots a diminutive grey kitten, soaked to the bone and curled in on itself in the corner of the second step. “hello, there,” minseok coos softly, reaching out with his fingers. the kitten leans forward, butting it’s tiny head against minseok’s fingertips.

now, he’s at a loss of what to do. he doesn’t want to pick the thing up, no matter how adorable it is, for fear of getting sick but he can’t just leave it here either. raindrops catch on his eyelashes as minseok blinks up at the apartment block. _jongdae_. he owns cats, right? he should know what to do with this stray.

daring to pick the cat up, minseok holds it in the crook of his arm, thankful it didn’t put up much of a fight, seeking the warmth even if that meant minseok’s clothes getting even more wet and possibly infested with unheard-of diseases. minseok purposefully strides up the stairs, taking out his phone as he waits for the elevator. he shoots jongdae a message: _urgent!!!! pls tell me ur apartment number!!!!_

jongdae replies with a _???_ but gives him the location anyway. minseok turns up at jongdae’s front door a couple minutes later with a whining cat scooped up in his arms and a very confused and half-awake jongdae, “what are you doing—oh.” he glances warily at the kitten in minseok’s arms, then back up and minseok’s sheepish expression and back down at the cat who widens his eyes pitifully at him.

“help?” minseok asks meekly.

“come in.” jongdae holds his arm out, pushing the door back so minseok and his new companion can enter jongdae’s practically miniscule studio apartment. “welcome to my humble abode. it’s nothing, really.” jongdae follows minseok into the apartment, scratching the back of his neck. he runs a hand through his hair, jaw unhinging in a wide yawn.

“but it’s home?” minseok finishes and jongdae nods, “i’m sorry for uh, waking you up.” he gestures to jongdae’s sleep clothes, a baggy t-shirt and power rangers printed linen pants, with his chin, his hands otherwise occupied.

“it’s alright, had to wake up soon anyway.” jongdae shrugs, “do you want anything to drink?” he walks over to the kitchen area, opening the fridge as a ginger cat slinks into the room, curling itself around jongdae’s ankle.

“tea would be nice,” minseok replies, politely. he glances around for a place to sit, before demurely seating himself on the edge of jongdae’s ragged couch.

jongdae takes the milk carton out and spins around, wiggling his fingers in minseok’s direction, “when in doubt, _tea_ ,” jongdae dutifully recites, “or at least that’s what my dad used to say. i’m more of a coffee-person.”

“terrible englishman,” minseok says, shaking his head forlornly, “but me too.” the kitten meows, as if in distaste of the two of them. it only makes them laugh, if anything.

while the water boils, they go about washing the cat in the laundry sink, wrapping it up with a towel. its head pokes out cutely and minseok’s never felt more endeared, until he takes a look at jongdae’s fond smile and his heart flutters even faster than before. after taking care of the unnamed kitten, jongdae takes a look at minseok and decides to shove him into his bedroom—a fucking mess, minseok thinks, anal-retentive senses twitching—and yells at him to pick out the cleanest clothes he can find to wear in place of his soaked suit.

minseok pokes through piles of messy clothes, eventually finding a suitable replacement—just a simple tee and sweatpants. he sniffs them for any suspicious odours but fortunately they’re clean. he changes, plucking his wet clothes to go hang in the laundry. when he comes out, he finds jongdae lying horizontally on the couch, the grey kitten perched on his chest as it playfully swats at jongdae’s fingertips. jongdae’s other cats lazily and uninterestingly watch the spectacle from different vantage points in the apartment.

minseok stares for a few moments, before he shakes off the long-suppressed feeling of _domesticity_ clouding his senses. he trudges over to the kitchen to take his simmering tea, inhaling the sweet scent as he takes a much-needed warming sip. he leans against the counter, watching as jongdae hums a soft lullaby of sorts to the kitty. he’s so grateful for how accommodating jongdae’s been, “i owe you big time,” he says.

jongdae tilts his head, looking at minseok upside-down over the arm of the couch. “hm, why? you’re the one keeping him.” he smiles angelically, all teeth and no bite.

minseok’s eyes widen for a moment before he narrows them. he— he can’t! he’s not ready for this kind of commitment! that’s a living, breathing creature he’ll have to take care of.

“honestly, minseok,” jongdae cuts, standing up to walk over to minseok, the kitten haphazardly draped across his shoulders, “it’s not that hard, i’ll even write you a manual.”

minseok eyes him and the kitten hesitantly. he nods, wondering what he’s gotten himself into.

 

-

 

later, they have a couple beers to loosen up and try to brainstorm names for minseok’s new pet. it devolves into a screaming match, pitching in suggestions over each other like “pumpkin!” and “spock!” and “kevin!”. jongdae leans his head against minseok’s shoulder, smoothing down the kitten’s fur where it lays in minseok’s lap.

“i’ve got it,” minseok whispers with a giggle, “astro cat.”

“nice one,” jongdae agrees.

in the end, they’re too lazy to come up with any more creative names and thus, astro cat is christened.

minseok is on his third bottle when the conversation takes a more personal route. they sprawl across the couch, facing each other, legs uncoordinatedly entangled. it starts when minseok asks why jongdae doesn’t call him hyung.

the sun is setting on the horizon now, a golden hue streaming in through the flimsy, gossamer curtains. a soft melody plays from jongdae’s iphone dock, an instrumental from the xx, minseok recognises through his pleasant haze. “would you believe me if i said i’ve never been there?” jongdae says after a few moments, sounding subdued.

“to korea?” minseok’s voice sounds shrill, brash in comparison.

“yeah,” he nods, “i mean, i grew up calling my brother hyung. using honorifics and all that.” he grips the head of his viridescent beer bottle, “i’ve forgotten a lot of korean now. i can’t for the life of me try to speak it anymore but i can understand it in bits.”

jongdae sighs; more like, _huffs_ , as if annoyed with himself, before continuing, turning to look at minseok now with careful, intent eyes, “i can call you hyung, if you’d like? it crossed my mind, i’m really—”

“it’s ok,” minseok cuts in, just as jongdae breathes out _sorry_. “i won’t miss it. you grew up here, it’s understandable to—”

“lose your roots?” jongdae finishes, raising an eyebrow. he circles the rim of the bottle with his finger, “i don’t _want_ to, not really.”

“maybe you should visit, huh?”

in the dimming light, minseok sees jongdae’s eyes dance in mirth. “i should.” he nods solemnly and astro cat mews its agreement from minseok’s lap.

 

-

 

minseok wakes up on an unfamiliar couch, back aching horribly. he stretches, popping the creaks in his spine, and sits up, extending his arms with a yawn. there’s the beginnings of a headache throbbing in the crevices of his skull and colourful dots blink in his line of vision as he gauges his surroundings—it’s jongdae’s apartment. he must have fallen asleep here last night.

his berating thoughts are interrupted by the sound of singing coming from the kitchen. jongdae roams around the counter, pouring boiling water into two mugs as he fervently sings lyrics minseok doesn’t recognise.

jongdae feels minseok’s gaze on him and looks up, brightening immediately when he sees minseok’s awake, “morning.”

minseok stands up, groggily rubbing the sleep off his eyes. “good morning, jongdae. i’m so sorry for imposing.”

jongdae laughs, shrugging, “it’s no big deal. the bathroom’s that way.” he points to the left and minseok finds it easily enough, given how small the apartment is, and takes care of his business, washing his face with lukewarm water while he has the chance.

“what were you singing before?” minseok asks, once he comes out and takes his tea from jongdae’s hand with a hushed _thank you_.

jongdae tilts his head, taking his bottom lip between his teeth for a second before letting it spring back, “just a new thing i’m working on. it’s nothing fancy…”

“i really liked it.” minseok smiles over the mug clasped between his two palms.

jongdae’s face immediately lights up; minseok doesn’t want to leave but he’s overstayed his welcome. jongdae insists he stay—“it’s a saturday!”—but minseok refuses, takes his kitten and dried suit and thanks jongdae again for being so welcoming.

“don’t be a stranger!” jongdae calls out, waving as minseok leaves.

“i won’t!” minseok shouts back. he really, really doesn’t want to be.

 

-

 

a week later, it’s nearing lunchtime when minseok gets a text from jongdae, at work, with an address and an elusive _meet me here at 1, say ur jongdae kim’s friend_ as the caption. minseok subtly shows his screen to sehun over the head of a patient laying in the dentist chair.

sehun is of no help whatsoever and merely wiggles his eyebrows and tells him he should go. minseok tries the other assistants but they insist the same thing and that is how minseok finds himself an hour later, driving to this unknown address in some kind of wild goose-chase or treasure hunt. minseok doesn’t know if jongdae’s more of a wild goose or a chest of gold, but here’s more inclined to go with the former as of now.

he ends up in the lobby of a small office building, tapping his fingers against the counter in beats of one, two, three, as he waits for the receptionist to return. once she arrives, he introduces himself as jongdae kim’s friend, minseok, and she immediately gives him the clear, pointing in the general direction of where he needs to go.

minseok still hasn’t figured out what this place is but it clicks when he passes by small studio rooms filled with unfamiliar people until he stumbles upon jongdae, legs resting up on the table as he reads a paper.

minseok knocks on the glass of the door, waiting as jongdae glances up and smiles, beckoning him inside. he enters, a questioning look on his face, “what am i doing here?” he raises an eyebrow at jongdae.

“thought you might want to get an exclusive behind-the-scenes,” jongdae says cheekily, “you know, as my fan.”

“will you let that go?” minseok scoffs.

jongdae grins, “never.”

they spend an hour or so listening to music and fiddling around with the controls. jongdae takes minseok on a tour around the headquarters—they explore every nook and cranny, stumbling upon a couple of boxes of vintage cassettes in the back of a supply closet which make jongdae’s eyes widen in surprise. “i take it you’ve never seen these before?” minseok asks, amused at jongdae’s expression.

jongdae shakes his head. they take the cassette tapes back to the room and find an old player, goofing around as they listen to public enemy and ice cube, bopping their heads along to the old-school jams.

later, jongdae takes minseok into the archive room, filled with more music than minseok’s probably got in his itunes library. there, he meets baekhyun, also known as the world’s greatest radio host and jongdae’s self-proclaimed best friend. minseok has listened to baekhyun’s afternoon show many times before, and the latter is just as bubbly and hilarious in real life than he is on radio.

“have fun, kids,” baekhyun says, with a wink, before leaving them alone in the dusty, quiet room. for a room filled with so much sound, it’s awfully silent.

they walk through the aisles, minseok running his finger along the edge of a shelf as jongdae points out some of the songs. suddenly, jongdae pauses and minseok bumps into him. jongdae plucks a CD out of the shelf, showing the front to minseok: stevie wonder’s _my cherie amour_. “a favourite of mine,” jongdae whispers and minseok is immediately hyper aware of how close they are when he feels jongdae’s warm breath brush over his cheek.

for a moment, only the sound of their soft, steady breathing can be heard in the room, although minseok’s heart is beating so fast he’s sure that jongdae could hear it if he listened closely. it only takes one glance at jongdae’s lips and then up at his eyes, watching minseok darkly and in asking, for jongdae to lean over, gently pushing minseok into the uncomfortable shelf, and press his lips against minseok’s.

jongdae braces his palms on the shelf on either side of minseok’s head, slipping his tongue into minseok’s mouth as the latter sighs. jongdae expertly flicks the his tongue against the blunt tip of minseok’s incisor, with promises of what he can do. minseok tilts his head to the left, hungry for it, addicted to the taste of jongdae in his mouth. he slides his hands up jongdae’s front, feeling his beating heart beneath his palm, working just as erratically as minseok’s. minseok smiles against jongdae’s lips but it turns into a soft moan as jongdae threads his fingers through minseok’s hair and tugs, gently but hard enough for him to feel it.

they don’t go any further than making out but by the time they return, minseok giving jongdae one last kiss, fixing his collar, minseok is late for work. jongdae promises to see him soon, contended and dazed smile on his face as he waves to minseok, driving away.

when minseok enters the clinic, suit dishevelled and hair a mess, everyone knows where he’s been and what he’s been doing and no one will let him live it down. sehun snorts when he enters the patient room, giving minseok a once-over before declaring that jongdae’s finally cracked him. “late for work _and_ because of hot snogging. where’s the minseok i know and kind of love, a rebel has replaced him,” sehun says seriously, before breaking into a grin.

minseok shakes his head but smiles to himself. he has the worst co-workers.

 

-

 

despite this particular tuesday being a rare off-day, minseok doesn’t get to have his much-needed sleepin. he wakes up to astro cat scratching forlornly at his door and the sun only just rising outside. not being able to go back to sleep for some strange reason—which he puts down to habit—minseok gets up and stumbles to the kitchen to make tea and toast.

out of his periphery, he spots his small, portable radio in the corner of the counter and it clicks. he turns the radio on, turning the dial till he hears a familiar voice, _daybreak radio_.

astro cat attempts to claw his way up minseok’s sweatpants until minseok finally relents and scoops him up, leaning against the counter as the kitten snuggles up to him. he sips on his burning tea, scalding his tongue, as jongdae prattles away about some murderous ducks at the park when he was trying to take an innocent walk. minseok can’t help but laugh along with jongdae at his misfortune, shaking his head in mirth as jongdae plays a tune by SOHN.

he places his half-empty mug on the counter, picking astro cat up by his midsection, like he would a baby. astro cat meows contentedly—or at least, minseok would like to believe, but it may have been a noise of annoyed resignation—as minseok boops their noses together.

“what do you think about jongdae?” minseok says, in a horrible high-pitched voice. astro cat simply stares at him, so he persists, “he kissed me, last week. god, i feel like a romantic teenager again. it’s been so long.”

astro cat yawns; minseok groans, shaking his head, “he’s all like _look into your eyes_ , and i’m just _butter-butterflies_ , you know? a right mess.”

jongdae’s voice filters through the shitty speakers of the radio again, mentioning the name of the last song played, and minseok grins at the kitten, “but i think it’s time for me to divorce the clinic. we can still be friends though. lu han would be so proud.”

 

-

 

minseok has been so used to the tranquil humdrum of life that he’s forgotten what it was like to be spontaneous, adventurous, _himself_ and not this boring, lonely shell of the minseok he once was. jongdae came in and shook everything up, turned over his neat piles of colour-coordinated socks and made him feel again. but then again, he’s been doing that for months now hasn’t he?

_only love is all maroon, gluey feathers on a flume, sky is womb and he's the moon._

the stars twinkle in the distance as two rugged-up marshmallows—minseok and jongdae kim—ungracefully slide across the ice rink, facing each other with their hands linked.

“it’s been forever since i’ve done this!” minseok yells over the loud chatter of all the other skaters. he feels exhilarated, laughing wildly up at the night sky. jongdae laughs along with him and it’s perfect for all of two seconds before jongdae gets distracted, skating backwards and trips over himself. he brings minseok tumbling down on top of him on the freezing ice. minseok bumps his head against jongdae’s pointy chin with an _oomph_. it’s more painful than romantic, to be honest but it makes the two of them erupt into shocked giggles again.

after walking hand-in-hand around the street markets, taste-testing different treats, minseok decides it’s time to take jongdae home…

“you’re making me _tteokbokki_?” jongdae asks in surprise as minseok takes the ingredients out and places them on the countertop back at his apartment.

minseok nods, going about making the dish as jongdae relays his childhood memories of his all-time favourite food and how he hasn’t had it in so long.

“well, we’re both doing things we haven’t in a while tonight, aren’t we?” minseok muses as they sit at the dining table, eating the hot food once its done.

“i don’t know about you, but there’s something else i haven’t done in a while,” jongdae says, locking eyes with minseok, his twinkling with the beginnings of an idea.

that’s how minseok ends up being pushed back onto his bed ten minutes later, clothes being torn at by a desperate jongdae who sucks a mark into the hollow of minseok’s throat. minseok exhales, his breathing becoming ragged as he allows jongdae to pull off his sweater and long-sleeved shirt, and pants after that. “fuck, minseok, you’re so beautiful.” minseok feels breathless, laid open underneath jongdae’s burning gaze. he wraps his hand around jongdae’s wrist, stopping him from going any further so he can roll them over and undress jongdae too.

they giggle when jongdae’s head gets caught in his top, and it takes a few clumsy moments for the two of them to be as bare as each other. minseok leans in to kiss jongdae again; he can’t get enough of jongdae’s mouth, the sounds he makes when minseok rolls a sensitive nipple with his thumb and peppers kisses along jongdae’s sternum. how is he going to hold himself back from everything else?

jongdae’s eyes are completely blown with lust, his lips pink and swollen from all the kissing, and as much as minseok would like to see them wrapped around his dick, jongdae apparently has other ideas. he asks minseok where the lube and condoms are, taking them out of the drawer when minseok directs him to it. minseok appreciates the view of jongdae’s tight, cute ass in his briefs and almost dies on the spot when jongdae wiggles out of them, the curve of his skin so smooth and soft.

minseok leans back against the headboard, pulling down his own briefs to take his cock in his hand. he hisses at first contact, stroking himself slowly as jongdae climbs back onto the bed, straddling minseok’s thighs with a smirk at minseok’s dick. he scuttles forward, pressing their bare chests and erections together, as he pulls minseok in for another uncoordinated kiss. minseok pulls back when he hears the click of the lube bottle and glances down to see jongdae slicking up his fingers and pressing the index at his entrance, lip tugged between his teeth and eyes screwed shut in concentration. he wiggles the first finger inside himself easily enough, fingering himself slowly. minseok’s never been more turned on. he goes to jerk himself off to the sight of jongdae breaching himself with a second finer, but jongdae’s left hand slaps minseok’s away, giving him a pointed look.

it’s like slow torture, watching jongdae become a writhing mess on top of him and having to _wait_. he wastes time kissing along the plane of jongdae’s pale chest, whispering praises of _pretty_ and _baby, you’re doing so well_ against his skin as he leaves blooming bruises in a constellation across his body.

finally, after what feels like forever, jongdae grabs a condom, tearing the packet open with his teeth and rolling it over minseok’s length. he places his mouth over minseok’s—not really a kiss but more a token of comfort—as he slowly seats himself on minseok, inch-by-inch. minseok squeezes his eyes shut, head lolling back against the headboard with a moan.

jongdae runs his hands along minseok’s chest, waiting for a few moments before he begins to move. he starts out with slow, calculated grinds of his hips that have heat pooling to the pit of minseok’s stomach and then begins to lift himself up and down, palms braced on minseok’s tensed shoulders for leverage.

the sounds he makes are like nothing minseok has ever heard, and sue him if he couldn’t get off on them alone; the singer in jongdae truly making a breakthrough as he moans and whines for minseok, minseok, _minseok_. he eventually wraps his arm around jongdae’s waist, giving him what he wants as he thrusts up hard, head flopping uselessly against against jongdae’s neck—his heart rapidly hammering away—as his hips do all the work.

it’s with minseok’s tight grip around jongdae’s cock and teeth biting marks into his throat, that jongdae comes into minseok’s hand with a satisfied hiccup, vocal chords ragged with the strain at this point. minseok follows soon after, seeing stars as he’s toppled over the edge, tight coil in his stomach loosening with waves of pleasure.

they fall back onto the bed, breathless and panting and revelling in each other. wow, minseok thinks. “wow,” jongdae says, “that was so hot. bit vanilla though, don’t you think?”

minseok laughs, slapping jongdae’s thigh playfully, “we have plenty of time to explore kinks. all the time in the world.” he leans over to his side to kiss jongdae again. now, he has another creature comfort to add to his shower list: #1 _jongdae kim, boyfriend_.


End file.
